A song sings the morning into being

a song sings the morning into being
bootstraps the world from dark nothing

notes flow out and tumble down the slope
heading over heels
bouncing off rocks, changing direction

eddying into backwaters, spinning a while
then petering out to a coda of afterthought

amber music drips onto rich brown music
even the splashes are music

the song sings new leaves onto birches
and paints the grass a deeper green

more colours incant the parts that were missing
filling them in
because the song has made its own light now

the song sings a bird to the top of tree
then stops

as the blackbird flies into the morning
the morning it has made

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There are several highlights for me that mark moments in the year – in nature. Many concern signs of spring – the first hazel catkins, the first Chiffchaff song ...

Hearing the first blackbird song is one of these highlights - usually in January or February and usually just before dawn. I heard the first yesterday morning.

We’re lucky in the British Isles that one of commonest birds is also one of the most beautiful singers.

It seems to have what we'd think of as great musicality - the tone, the melodiousness, the phrasing with dramatic pauses, the jazz-like codas, the improvisation.

All blackbird song is beautiful because the tone is so warm and rich. Each one is unique and every now and then you hear a real virtuoso with a heart stopping performance to rival anything by Mozart!
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